Parallel Parking
by Asher Elric
Summary: Side story to Jail House Letters. Doug and Dennis must get Tom out of jail. But they have to deal with drug dealers and murderers to do it. Can they manage this and fall in love at the same time? Slash. Doug/Dennise/Tom
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer -- In the words of Jack Sparrow "Borrowed, borrowed without permission but with every intention of bringing it back,"

A/N – Okay, I have been thinking about this for a while now. I figure it would be nice to have things that are mentioned in "Jail House Letters". This will mostly be about Dennis and Doug. Which will lead eventually to Doug/Dennis and Doug/Dennis/Tom. I hope you all like this.

**Parallel Parking**

**If you want a rainbow, you have to put up with the rain – anonymous. **

--

Doug walked down the court house steps in a daze. The day was cheery and bright, not what he felt like on the inside. The late spring breeze made the aroma of roses and violets from the near by park make him sneeze for a moment. Right now, he wished for rain. Lots of rain and lightning to match the dark mood he was in right now.

_Guilty, Guilty, Guilty, Guilty, Guilty…_the words echoed in his pounding head like the laughter of a grinder. Why? why was it that these sorts of things tended to happen to them? Why couldn't the real killer come forward and take the blame? Well, in a perfect world…but, this wasn't a perfect world, was it?

Sighing, Doug continued on down the street. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to do anything. Tomorrow he and Mrs. Debra(1) would clean out Hanson's apartment. She all ready had the storage unit. Doug felt it would be weird going through Tom's things. He had spent a night couch surfing at Tom's place. But that was about it, he didn't go through other peoples stuff without a search warrant.

Doug stopped for a moment and found himself in front of a coffee shop. He also found Dennis Booker sitting at a table in the far back and almost out of site. Doug entered and ordered two cups of black coffee. When the server got him his order and he paid, he joined Dennis at the table.

"Hey," he said, giving the man a cup.

"Hey…I didn't think you were a black coffee drinker," Denis said.

"It's the best way to drink it," Doug replied.

"You know…I didn't think Tom ever did it. I know that missing bullet is the key," Dennis said.

"I know," Doug watched the reflection of the light in the black substance.

"I don't understand, why not give him a chance? Why not go over the scene again?" Dennis asked, but mostly himself.

Doug answered anyway; "Maybe they figured they did their job,"

"IAF doesn't see it that way. I still have contacts there, they think the CSI guy's thought Hanson did it anyway. So they didn't bother going back. Trust me, IAF would know if CSI went back," Dennis explained.

"So, they've practically condemned Hanson to life in prison," Doug muttered.

"Unless we prove they did something with the evidence to make the trial go in their direction. If we can prove conspiracy…"

"Then, they'd have to let Hanson get a new trial…or at least let him out pending an official inquiry," Doug finished. Dennis gave him a wry smile.

"What are our chances of that happening?" Dennis shrugged as he finished his coffee. Doug sighed and sipped at his.

"I don't want my best friend suffering through shit in Sing-Sing(2)," Doug said.

"I know, and Juvi isn't the same as prison full of adults – there isn't a governing system to protect him," Dennis pointed out.

"I know, I can just hope that Tom's left hook is just as good as that time he got me," Doug said.

"When was that?" Dennis asked.

"We went undercover in this military school…"

Doug glared at Dennis who was snickering a bit at that picture; "Anyway," Doug rolled his eyes, "I went under as a delinquent, Tom went in with a title – anyway, we were at this sudo-wrestling class, I took down a guy and when the Coach asked who else wanted to go up against me. Tom stepped up to the plate and when I thought it would be a nice and easy take down, Tom just sucker punched me in the face,"

"Oh man! I wish I had a picture of that!" Dennis crowed.

"Yeah, it was the only time he punched me without me making him angry enough to do it. He did it for the case, and Tommy never does anything unless it'll serve the case," Doug shrugged.

"Really? Sounds like he plans these things out," Dennis said.

"Sometimes,"

"Well, maybe we should take a page out of his book," Dennis muttered.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I won't rest till I know who the real murderer is, or prove that the evidence was tampered with,"

"All right!"

--

**Internal Affairs Office, Downtown**

**6:30 (day 1 of unofficial investigation)**

Benjamin Thymes quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Dennis Booker usually never pulled rank unless he had too. So, Ben was happy to do what Dennis needed.

"Okay, but you can't let the Cap'n know, technically, the case is closed," Ben replied. Dennis and Ben had the place to themselves. The work day usually ended at five for the IAF people. Ben was different though, he liked getting an early start on paper work.

"I know, but – the CIS guy's never went back when they said they did,"

"I know," Ben said and turned back to his papers. He rooted around for a moment or two before coming up with a file.

"Let's see, three shots inside the house, multiple outside…the gun that killed the victim was apparently lost. Two sets of finger prints were found. One of the gang kid and Hanson's, of course. But, one of the three bullets in the house didn't come from the Victim's gun nor Hanson's police issued pistol," Ben said.

"Okay, so that third bullet would prove that someone else was there," Dennis said.

"Well, that's not the only piece of evidence that we don't have,"

"What…?"

"The body of our Vic sustained several rounds that ultimately killed him. These bullets were removed, but, the wounds are insufficient evidence against you're friend. The bullets weren't in the evidence box when I got a look. That was earlier on. I think that whoever has the third bullet from the house also has the bullets from the body," Ben said.

"Okay…okay…now, All I need is a list of the CSI team that took that crime scene," Booker said.

"It's in the file, since its closed, I won't need this for a while," Ben said. Dennis grinned.

"I owe you for this,"

"I'll put it on your tab," Ben replied.

--

Doug came to a halt; removing the head phones the music of his walk man became faint. He sighed and stretched in front of the stairs to his apartment complex. After his talk with Dennis he felt a bit better. But only a little, it was such a long shot of them finding the evidence to clear Tommy. _Whoa…when did I ever start calling him that in my head…?_ Doug shook his head. He needed a nice long shower to think everything out.

When Doug hit the button on his answering machine, he was happily surprised by the tones of Dennis Booker filling the emptiness: "Hey, found some thing, call me at…" Doug grabbed the phone and re-dialed the number. He waited for a few moments, asked what was up and agreed to meet Dennis at the pub down the street.

"There goes the long shower," but Doug couldn't find it within himself to be upset.

--

Dennis had a mug of beer ready for Doug when he arrived. He marveled at the man a bit. With his muscles and eyes. Dennis had to remind himself to not act like a high school kid when Doug sat down. He wore torn jeans, a white wife beater and a blue plaid shirt that was open and showed his dog-tags.

"Glad you could meet me, take a look at this," Dennis said. He handed Doug the file he had gotten from Ben.

"Yeah…you're friend is good, he has a list," Doug said.

"Ben knows how to do the job better than me," Dennis said.

"That might be the first time I heard you be humble about anything," Doug said.

"It will be the only time," Dennis warned.

"I know," Doug grinned.

--

Debra Hanson was probably the Mother that Doug had always wished he had. She was more of the home maker type though. She smiled at Doug when she answered the door to Tom's apartment.

"Hi, Doug!" she said and hugged him briefly.

"I've been putting things into boxes, so all you have to do is bring them down to the truck," she grinned. Doug grinned back, he wouldn't have to go through Tom's things.

--

When Doug got home that night. He was sore and tired all over, however, this lethargic sensation disappeared for a few moments when he found a letter from Tom in the pile of bills.

--

A/N – Tell me what you think. This is a parallel story to "Jail House Letters".


	2. Chapter 2

A/N – I totally forgot to let people know that for some reason I have Tommy's Mom be Debra Hanson. I don't really want to change it. All letters are show cased in "Jail house letters" – so, you will have to read the story just for the letters. It tells a conduit story, this is more of a narrative of the story. Thank you.

**Disclaimer – I don't own a thing except all of the OC's. Thank you.**

**--**

**Parallel Parking**

**Part 2**

**Its hard to understand how a cemetery raised its burial cost and blamed it on the cost of living – Anonymous **

**--**

"Oh, come on Dorothy!" Doug yelled. Red in the face because of the fight, because she got weirded out when she found out that not only was Doug bi, but he mainly thought of himself as gay. It had somehow come about when he had gotten the first letter from Tom.

"Don't do that to me!" Dorothy yelled back.

"It's not my fault! I didn't think you'd come back! Hell, you punched out on me three months ago!" Doug replied.

"That's not fair," Dorothy rolled her eyes.

"No, this isn't going to happen this time, Dorothy, you sold all my stuff. Put MY HOUSE up for sail and NEVER CALLED ME TO TELL ME!"

"Doug…!"

"Get out! This is the end, Dorothy, the fat lady has sung her song!" Doug replied angrily, he opened the door to his apartment for her. Once again, they had tried, they had gone to dinner at Debra Hanson's house and promptly got into a fight when they got back. When Doug expressed how much he cared about Tom. Dorothy obviously took it the wrong way and accused him of having an affair with Tom while they had been in an relationship.

_At least Tommy understands me!_ - was Doug's reply to that accusation. That had spurred on the fight and now Dorothy flounced out the door. Doug slammed it after her. Doug was sorry he had to nip this in the bud before it started. The last time he tried to go out with a different girl, Dorothy had shown up and ruined everything. Well, Doug wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to get into another relationship, but hell, guy's were easier to deal with than women. Honestly, he could count on Tom being predictable, even Dennis had a more pleasant thought than going home to Dorothy…who had cheated on him! Where the hell did she get off accusing him that shit when she had done it herself?

"Well, talk about the kettle calling the tea pot black," he muttered.

--

Dennis wasn't exactly sure why Doug had called so late at night. But, there he was, listening to Doug basically admit he was more gay than bi. How did this happen? He had to wonder, that at least two of the guy's in the Jump Street program were gay? Of course, he had been gay since a kid, he didn't know why; he just got the hots for guys. It was no big deal.

"Well, you did it right. She blew you off plenty of times before so…she shouldn't expect you to wait around for her," Dennis said, lighting up a cigarette. He heard Doug sigh on the other end of the phone line.

"Yeah, I know, but we've done plenty of stuff together. She once told me that I'd be a good Dad," Doug said.

"Look, you can always adopt, no problem there, it's been know to be done," Dennis replied.

"Thanks,"

"No problem," Dennis shrugged.

"So, I got a letter from Tommy,"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he seems to be doing all right. I mean, Tommy's not good at the whole jail thing," Doug replied.

"Last I remember, you were the one with claustrophobia," Dennis said with a snort.

"I know, but Tommy takes things a bit more personally. Like its all his fault those kids are in jail or something,"

"I know, if that ass hole hadn't transferred me and Ioki out of there, Tom wouldn't have had to be on his own," Dennis said.

"I know,"

"Look, you've said it yourself, Tommy doesn't do things unless he has to. Well, I'm sure he's planning his moves carefully. He's probably leading all those guys around on a leash and they don't even know it,"

"Yeah, hey…thanks man,"

"Any time,"

--

Addison West was the Detective in charge of the crime scene. He had twenty years of service under his belt. He was now in his mid fifties with bright white hair; one eye was glazed over, as if he couldn't see out of it while the other was clear blue. He wore an out of style suite that would have been all right for the early seventies.

"They did their job, there was no point in going back," he said gruffly. Dennis wanted to pop the guy, but since Addison mostly reminded Dennis of his own grandfather – he curbed that feeling.

"Look, we are talking about an innocent man in jail. The Prosecution led the jury on!"

"I know that, I was there, remember?" Addison replied with a glare.

"Look, the evidence is missing, that's grounds for a mistrial, and they had nothing!"

"Missing?"

"Yeah, missing, are you trying to tell me that you didn't know a thing about it?" Dennis asked, not believing a word the man was trying to tell him.

"That's what I'm telling you," Addison replies with a roll of his head.

"Your guys took the evidence, your guys bagged the evidence, and one of your guys stole the evidence to frame Hanson. What, if anything, about that don't you understand?" Dennis said, slamming his hand on the table between them. Glasses wobbled for a few moments before settling once again.

"Look it here, sonny, I've been in this business for twenty years. I know the ins and the outs. I've put thirteen drug dealers behind bars for life, took down three serial killers and put about a hundred and some odd kids in jail, just to see them out on the streets the next day – and now you come waltzing in here telling me I don't know how to do my job and somehow let my guys get away with evidence that did put one of our own behind bars? Why would I do that? Answer me that," Addison said, he lent back in his chair and lit up a cigar.

"Just because you've done your duty doesn't mean that you didn't sell out because of some idiotic, preconceived notion," Dennis said.

"You don't know anything," Addison replied. He nervously sucked the end of the Cuban made cigar.

"Oh really? Well then, what if I told you that I know you're dealing crack for a Cuban Drug lord. I know that you put two other officers in jail for shit they never did. Now, what the hell makes you think that I won't share this with my Captain? Who'll share it with yours? And then, what makes you think that I won't call up this drug dealer and make him believe that you turned on him?" Dennis replied.

"How do you know 'bout Alberto?" Addison asked.

"Now, that is a good line, one from the movies. I play bad cop, get you to believe what I say and give me the clues that I need. My friend, I know everything about Alberto Clemente. All I needed from you was confirmation," Dennis replied. He drank the rest of the ice tea before giving a jaunty salute before leaving the man on his front porch, looking a bit blue in the face.

--

Daciana Toma's grand parents had been immigrants from Romania. She sported the dark look of the Romanian gypsies, but had her American father's dark green eyes. Thankfully, Doug wasn't brought in by the looks.

"I understand your problem, but I was trained well, I knew exactly what I was doing," Daciana said.

"Look, the evidence is missing; you've been under Addison West for two years. This isn't the first case where something went missing and an innocent man was sent to jail," Doug replied.

"I'm sure that was before I was put with his company," Daciana shrugged.

"No, you joined two years ago, within that time Mark Ulrich and Frank Norbert were sent to jail for shit they didn't do. It was only ten months later that someone found the evidence for Ulrich, he got out and the case was dismissed and the charge taken off his record," Doug said.

"That has nothing to do with me," Daciana replied, she didn't look nervous. But, Doug could tell that there was something different about her.

"Like hell you don't know a thing. Someone is messing around where they don't belong. You know who it is,"

Daciana shrugged, she stood from the couch and made her way to the bar. She poured herself a scotch on the rocks.

"I don't know anything," she said between sips.

"Like hell you do," Doug replied before stomping out of the house.

--

"So," over cups of soda and hot dogs, Dennis and Doug had stopped to compare notes, "What did the chick tell you?"

"Nothing, I got nothing," Doug replied.

"I have something," Dennis replied.

"What would that be?"

"Alberto Clemente…"

--

A/N – I am watching Blow, Alberto Clemente is an inspiration from the movie. Please review and tell me what you think about it. Thanks for everything, guys!

Ta.

Dizzy


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! – READ THIS BEFORE FOLLOWING THE REST OF THE CHAPTER. I SHANT BE HELD RESPONCIBLE IF YOU DO NOT AND YELL AT ME BECAUSE OF IT! -- I do not condone the use of drugs or alcohol. However, people chose to become high and chose to drink till they are over the state legal limit. This is just a story, drug use has already been established in the series, so, please do not yell at me. **

**a/n – okay, there will be a bit of a history lesson. I hope we can all enjoy it.**

**--**

**Parallel Parking**

**Part 3**

**The official toxicity limit for humans is between one and one and half grams of cocaine depending on body weight. I was averaging five grams a day, maybe more. I snorted ten grams in ten minutes once. I guess I had a high tolerance. – George Jung from "Blow" (2001) – played by Johnny Depp (Of course). **

**--**

**Cocaine hadn't always been illegal. **In fact, there was a time when it was widely used, mostly chewed. The reformed sort didn't come to pass till Frederick Gaedcke was able to isolate the substance in 1855. Cocaine had first and foremost been used by the locals of South America, they used it for everything. They became addicted, but didn't know it.

When the Spaniards conquered South America, they didn't believe what the inhabitants told them, till they tried it for themselves. Afterwards, well, it all went down hill. The Spaniards would be the first drug dealers to the rest of the world; most of the money went to support the Roman Catholic Church, in fact. Hell, 1885 in America saw cocaine in effing cigarettes. No doubt, from the beginning, it was a good business.

Dennis wondered what would bring a man so low. Even with the huge house, the fact that he actually did pay TAXES and was basically a good American (or would that be Columbian) citizen, Alberto Clemente was one hell of a rich man. He was also bold and arrogant.

His house must have boasted a hundred bedrooms, three huge pools, a Jacuzzi no matter where you look, and a private golf course. Eighteen holes. The man in question met the two officers on the front porch. He bought them over to a table that had been set with iced tea and Alberto's favorite chocolate cookies.

"Addison called me, you should know," Alberto said.

"I expected it of him," Dennis replied.

"Good, you don't beat 'round the bush, do you?" Alberto laughed.

"No, it waists my time," Dennis replied. Alberto motioned him and Doug to take a seat.

"Now, I know a lot of things, I know about the two of you…and your friend. Thomas Hanson…I haven't dealt with him, but he is quite a looker, don't you think?" Alberto asked. He handed Dennis a picture of Tom. The man looked to be undercover, Dennis couldn't tell where or when, but Tom did have a certain sex appeal.

"Yeah," Dennis agreed.

"Now, I am prepared to help you, but…I need fifty thousand for it," Alberto replied.

"Fifty-thousand?" Doug asked.

"I know the man who took your evidence. In fact, he was paid by someone I know. You get me fifty thousand, I can get you the evidence to get your man out of jail, plus some," Alberto replied.

"You're being rather cooperative, why do I get the feeling that you're gonna fuck us the moment out backs are turned?" Dennis asked.

"Ah, good question you ask. I be the same, I tell you why. I did not have any dealing with your Thomas Hanson, but, my younger brother Damien did. Tom saved my brother from OD'ing. He took my brother to the hospital and contacted our Mother. He saved my family from a depression that would have torn us apart," Alberto explained.

"Wow, that's such a coincidence," Doug said.

"Ah, like I say, you get me the money, I get you enough to find the true murderer and get Tom out of jail, good right?"

"Yeah, can we get back to you on the money? We kinda have to run this past our boss," Dennis said.

"Take what time you need," Alberto smiled.

--

"What are we going to do now?" Doug asked.

"We're going to get the money," Dennis replied.

"What? And how exactly do you propose we do that?" Doug asked.

"I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure Tom has some contacts we could use to get the fifty grand," Dennis said.

"Tom has contacts? What sort?"

"Who cares, I need to see if Tom has a black book or something," Dennis said.

"Well, I suppose its to Debra's then," Doug shook his head.

--

"Tommy didn't do anything too bad, I mean, he was just friends with the boy," Debra said as she went through some drawers.

"Who? It's not Buckins, is it?" Doug asked.

"No, no, some other boy….ah, here it is…Bassam Ali. He's Iranian, Tom did tell me he was into drugs, he didn't specify which, but Bassam took care of Tommy in school. Tommy tried to fight off the bigger kids, but, let's face it. A gun in your face is a better deterrent than a fist," Debra sighed.

"Tommy…our Tommy hung out with a druggie?" Doug asked, surprised at this new development.

"Tommy never did drugs, it all started during a school shoot out between Bassam and another kid over territory, anyway, Tommy got in the middle of it. Tommy took a bullet for Bassam. After that, Bassam was always there for Tommy. Took care of him, Bassam never mixed Tommy up in his business. But sometimes, it happened. Tommy was kidnapped once because Bassam didn't pay up when he said he would," Debra said.

"Wow, Tommy sure does get into trouble," Dennis whistled.

"Yeah, but he was fine," Debra shrugged.

"Do you have a number or something?" Dennis asked.

"Only this, I don't know if it'll help but you might get some place with it," Debra handed Dennis the number. He stuck it in his pocket.

"Thanks," Dennis replied.

"Whatever we can do, I have a lawyer now, I hope he can do something," Debra sighed.

"I hope so too because no the evidence is inadmissible," Doug said.

"Only if they were stilling doing a trial," Dennis replied.

--

"Hello?"

"Ah, hi, I need to talk to a Bassam Ali," Dennis said.

"Who is this?"

"I'm a friend of Tommy's, I'm Dennis,"

"You're a cop? Yes?"

"Yes, I', trying to get Tommy out of jail,"

"Tommy who?"

"Tommy Hanson? He was a pal of Bassam's during high school," Dennis replied getting slightly annoyed.

"Ah, yes. Give me your number, I tell Bassam,"

Dennis gave his personal number and work number.

"He get back to you some time," was the reply before the phone hung up.

--

Talking cocaine and how to move the substance happens to be a big part of the game. Bassam knew this; Bassam also knew that if anyone fucked you, well, you had to fuck them back. He'd been there once or twice, he'd been fucked and he fucked back just as hard.

"Look here, you ass hole, no one fucks with Bassam, you savvy?" Bassam had the business end of his gun to the temple of the man he was doing business with.

"I didn't know we'd be busted…" the man whimpered. Bassam took a moment before laughing his head off.

Then he pulled the trigger.

He didn't blink as the body before him went "**THUNK" **when it hit the ground. \\

Bassam Ali had once told a friend of his never to take a chance you weren't willing to get busted for. If you felt it was the thing to do, do it and don't get pissy afterwards. Only ass holes with no brains complained about going to jail when they deserved it. If you were going to make, take a chance and ride it out, sooner or later, life will be good.

Bassam lit up, that was when he got the message.

**Tommy in jail. **

**Dennis - #545-6798 work # 237-2334**

Frowning, Bassam went to make a phone call.

--

"You went to see a major drug dealer…without telling me first?" Fuller asked, surprised by the admittance from his officers.

"It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission," Dennis replied.

"It's better to make sure what your doing doesn't get you suspended," Fuller replied.

"Look, Alberto wants fifty grand. He say's he can get the evidence we need," Doug said.

"So? Where are you two going to get fifty grand?" Fuller asked.

"Bassam Ali," Doug replied.

"Have you told Tom any of this,"

"No way! We may take chances but we ain't about to get him mixed up in it," Dennis said.

"So, he doesn't know anything?" Fuller asked, just to make sure.

"Not a thing," Doug replied.

"Good,"

--

A/N – Yes, once again inspired by "Blow". It's not one of my favorite movie, but they do have some amusing scenes. By the way. I've upped this just for the language.


End file.
